


Affirmation

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every mech has a dark side, some are just better at hiding it than others, and Jazz is a master at disguises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affirmation

Ratchet frowned as he stopped in the centre of his quarters, his plates shifting as his EM field crackled in agitation.

He wasn’t alone.

Turning a full circle he was given no warning as a flare of black and red moved, sweeping him off his feet to hit the ground with a muffled clang.

Pulling his rifle from subspace he froze as he felt a blade come to rest across his throat, directly across his primary energon line.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” The Decepticon warned as Ratchets identity files informed him the mech was designated Ricochet, a rather deadly Decepticon assassin. He was about to switch his comm. on to warn the rest of the Ark that they had an intruder when his HUD flashed up an urgent warning. Opening the flagged file he frowned as he was presented with several classified files.

“Slaggit Jazz. You should have come to medbay first, get all those mods removed.” Subspacing his rifle Ratchet made to get up, only to have the blade at his neck score a shallow line in his armour.

He subsided with a scowl as the saboteur smirked, his helm tilted to one side as he regarded the prone medic. “Now why would I want to do that?”

“So I can change you back to normal?” Ratchet asked snarkily.

Jazz laughed, the sound dark, so different to his normal carefree persona that Ratchet shivered.

“Not just yet. I’ve got better plans for tonight” The mech grinned as he moved his blade, the medic, much to his delight remaining on the ground.

Ratchet didn’t so much as twitch as the blade was removed from his neck and a black hand trailed suggestively down his arm. Turning his helm to look at Jazz he inclined his head in permission. He would probably never know exactly what the ops mech had been forced to do while undercover - and quite frankly, didn’t want to know - but if this would help him regain his equilibrium, who was he to refuse. Besides Jazz was quite a skilled lover, even when he felt like cutting loose and being himself.

“Come” Jazz said as he stood up and stretched out before moving into the berthroom.

Ratchet rolled over before crawling after the other mech. Jazz chuckled as he sat on the edge of the berth and watched the medic. “You remembered this time, pity.” The deep orange optics swept over the red and white frame as it settled between his thighs, a slight tremor rattling the medics armour as he spoke. “Don’t worry; I’m sure I can find other ways to punish you.”

Fingers under his chin forced Ratchet to tilt his head back, meeting the bright optics that stared down at him, the expression of calculated malice on the others faceplates causing his armour to press in close to his body, an unconscious display of submission to the smaller but infinitely more dangerous mech.

Pulling something from his subspace Jazz chuckled as the medic flinched, only his quick grab for his chevron holding him in place. Yelping the medic stayed still as claw tipped fingers raked along his chevron, before digging in.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way you know.” The warning was delivered casually, as if Jazz truly didn’t care one way or the other. Ratchet offlined his optics for a moment before opening his mouth to allow the other to fit the gag he was holding in place.

“Much better.” He said out loud as the medic glared at him, his usual method of showing his annoyance silenced.

His glare had no effect on the smaller bot as he extricated himself from between the berth and Ratchet. He pulled a pair of cuffs from his subspace, before tugging the medic to his feet, efficiently binding his wrists behind his back and sweeping his feet out from underneath him. Causing Ratchet to snarl, or at least, attempt to snarl, as his chest slammed into the berth, his muffled objection to the rough treatment only making Jazz laugh.

“Language Ratchet.” He chided as he traced several armour seams which slowly loosened as the medic relaxed, his chassis slowly betraying him. Slipping fingers into gaps in the armour Jazz gently teased at the sensors buried below the armour. Beneath him Ratchet squirmed, the gentle pressure at odds to what he had come to expect from the ops mech.

“Open up.” Jazz said as he tapped the medic’s panel. He grinned as Ratchet obediently slid the panel out of the way, obviously he still remembered what would happen if he didn’t.

Retracting his panel Ratchet shuddered as he recalled Jazz hacking into his subroutines to trigger it to open. Moaning into the gag he tried to push back as a finger slowly circled his valve stimulating the sensors and leaving him wanting more.

A single finger slipped in, sending heat and electricity racing around his frame as he pushed backwards. Pain flashed across his sensor net for a moment as a handful of wires in his hip were tugged, “Stop that.” Jazz murmured as he continued to tease the medic. Ratchet shuddered as the cables in his legs tensed, trying not to twitch and push towards the source of pleasure.

Ratchet flinched as something cold was pushed into his valve, bigger than the finger, but still not enough. “Close your panel.” The voice was a mere whisper in his audio receptors as he triggered the correct protocols before Jazz did something rash. “Good mech.” The voice chuckled as the device began to vibrate, continuing to tease the sensors.

Jazz smiled as he looked down on the shuddering medic. He looked so pretty with his head down, thighs spread as he twitched, trying not to move. How many others would he willingly submit to? The smile grew wider as answered the question himself. None. This was his alone to take. To use.

Jazz slid onto the edge of the berth, pushing his medic back into a kneeling position as he finally retracted his own panelling, his spike pressurising almost immediately. Running one hand over it he used the other to tilt the bowed head upwards. Blue optics followed the movement of his hand as he slowly stroked his spike. His free hand found the trigger on the gag, the medics muffled yelp of surprise making him laugh. “I liberated it from Vortex, such a good invention don’t you think?” He ran a finger over the edge of the now o-shaped metal holding the medics mouth open. “Keeps you quiet and you can still be useful.”

Ratchet moaned as one hand curved around his helm to hold him steady as Jazz wasted no time in pushing his spike into him. Any gentleness was gone as Ratchet flinched, trying to pull away as the spike hit the back of his throat with every thrust.

“Oh no you don’t.” Jazz said as he dug his claws into the back of the white helm, anchoring Ratchet in place. “You’ll take whatever I do and you’ll like it.”

Ratchet shuddered at the words, reminded intimately that he was bound and helpless at the mercy of a mech as ruthless as any Decepticon. And slag if his fans didn’t just kick up a notch with that thought.

Giving a last deep thrust Jazz pulled out, electric pleasure dancing through his circuits as he released the gag and motioned to the berth. Ratchet awkwardly clambered up, swaying as the movement caused the vibrator to move inside his valve and his still bound arms altered his balance. Jazz followed, fingers dipping into gaps in armour as soon as the medics back hit the berth.

He smirked as his fingers found sensors and wires, alternatively stroking and pinching. A strange mix of pleasure and pain that had Ratchet arching into him and simultaneously flinching away, his moans and snarls mixing in a constant stream of ‘yes, yes, owww, yes, fraggit owwww.’

Curling a finger around a minor energon line Jazz smiled as Ratchet stilled; his chassis quivering and a static laced whine of protest filling the room as he recognised the danger. His howl of pain sent a sharp tingle of electricity through Jazz as he pulled his claws out of the gap in the armour, energon coating them. “Easy mech.” Optics which had offlined snapped back on, focussing on the mech slowly cleaning his claws with his glossa. “You scream so beautifully.”

Ratchet whimpered as the same claws dipped into his hip joint again, smearing energon across his chassis. The other hand tugged at his panel, the order clear without words. Cycling it open Ratchet whimpered as fingers pushed in, retrieving the vibrator and casually tossing it aside. Jazz gave him no time to protest before he lined up and pushed into his valve.

Snapping his hips forwards Jazz grinned as Ratchet howled; his optics flickering offline at the stimulation and the stretch. The vibrator had done its job and the medic’s valve was slick but still so tight. Rocking into the warmth Jazz moaned, the tight valve lighting up his sensors in a wave as static started to crackle over his armour, jumping between the two mechs.

Ratchet hissed as each thrust pushed him into the berth, stretching his valve, a strange mix of pleasure and pain that his processor couldn’t decipher. Static danced across his armour, adding to the building charge that was spreading through his circuits. “Jazz!”

Claws dug into pliable metal, holding the medic in place as Ratchet screamed beneath him, valve clenching as electricity crackled across his frame, the discharge of static from his overload arching across Jazz’s armour, drawing a wail from his vocaliser as he came.

Ratchet groaned as he rebooted, his arms had been freed, the sliced line in his hip repaired and Jazz was curled around his frame, contentedly recharging. Wrapping his arms around the saboteur Ratchet slipped back into recharge, a smile on his faceplates.


End file.
